


Taming the Wolves

by MoonQueenSelene



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-28
Updated: 2017-01-18
Packaged: 2018-07-27 05:26:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7605277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonQueenSelene/pseuds/MoonQueenSelene
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the Battle of the Bastards ends in a Bolton victory, Ramsay does his best to collects the spoils of war. When one gets away he decides to have his fun with the other two, and what glorious things he has planned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Spoils of War

**Author's Note:**

> So this is an alternate ending to Battle of the Bastards where Rickon was not killed at the start of the battle and Jon loosing the battle just in case anyone was confused.

Gone. Over. Just like that in one fell swoop the battle had ended and Jon had not come out the victor. Sansa could only watch in horror as the battle ended, and prisoners were taken, she should have known this would end badly. Looking around wildly she saw Ramsay distracted and she found a glimmer of hope for herself. She loved Rickon and she loved Jon! She would not stay, she could not stay, not to go through hell again! Not to be raped by his men, not to be his unwilling wife! And with that thought in her head, she turned her horse and started off, time to go find Brienne and run…Run as far as she could…She knew how many enemies she had but…Petyr!

Yes, Petyr would protect her, he’d take her in without a second thought that much she knew. She had a place to hide, now she could only…Only hope that Rickon and Jon would survive being with Ramsay until she could TRY to retake Winterfell. 

“Brienne!” Sansa called as she fast approached her. Brienne had already packed their things, she must have suspected this wouldn’t work.

“Yes my Lady.” It wasn’t a question, Sansa didn’t need to ask a question anyway because Brienne had seen it in Lady Stark’s eyes. The fear…Fear of what would happen if Ramsay got hold of her. And with that look, the two started off as fast as possible. To their Eyrie it was then.

 

X

 

Poor Jon looked ragged as he’s grabbed. He fights and he fights and Ramsay just watches with amusement as they dragged him up, “It’s no use fighting now bastard.” He called, amusement dripping from that ever so smug tone of his, “The fight is over, and you’ve lost. Accept that and stop fighting lest I be forced to humiliate you more!” He said and started off towards Winterfell, “Tie him up and bring him.” He said offhandedly.

Jon’s first thought was to Sansa. Where was Sansa? Had he hurt Sansa? Had he gotten Sansa? No, none of those as it turned out, he heard some soldiers talking as they headed back to Winterfell.

“The Stark bitch got away as soon as she saw that the battle was lost. She was long gone by the time we got to their camp.” One said to the other. Jon kept his head down, to hide the look of betrayal on his face. Sansa had abandoned him as soon as she saw the battle was lost. It hurt, but it was for the best he supposed, better to have Sansa free and alive than a prisoner and victim. 

“You hear that bastard? The bitch abandoned you!” They laughed and Jon felt himself tense. No...He needed to stay calm lest he attempt to kill these men. He knew that killing these men would get him nowhere. Not now, not anymore…

 

X

 

Ramsay found himself thoroughly satisfied. Yes he was a bit peeved that his ‘charming’ wife had escape his grasp, but he had Jon and he had Rickon. He knew it wouldn’t be too long before he had Sansa back into his bed to with whatever he pleased. And oh how much fun he’d have until that day came. He had Jon dragged in and tied up to a chair in front of him, “Look at me bastard.” He said, smirking as Jon’s blazing glare met his cool and calm eyes.

“You’re angry at me. I can only assume Sansa told you of the things I did to her. I never hurt her, not too badly anyway. You see she’s my wife and she needs to give me an heir and very soon.” He started as if talking casually to him.

 

“Why are you telling me these things?” Jon growled out, feeling angry rise in him when Ramsay mentioned his plans of having a baby with Sansa.

Ramsay ignored Jon’s remark, “I had Reek watch. I had him watch me turn Sansa into a woman, unfortunately I cannot make a woman out of her again for you to see…” He had the most devious smirk on his face as he gave a side glance to Jon before continuing, “But however I do have something else.” He motioned to his guards and stood front facing Jon, meeting his gaze as poor young Rickon was dragged in and thrown down to floor, growling at the guards in that animalistic nature of his. Poor boy had been stripped of his wildling clothes, and was in a nightshirt that was incredibly too big for him instead. It was HUMILIATING to Rickon. Now this, this was what caused Jon to break his gaze to stare at Rickon in fear for the boy before he turned to meet Ramsay’s gaze, “No.” That was all he was able to get out, which caused Ramsay to laugh, “Yes Yes bastard, you’re going to sit here and watch. Watch as I make a man out of the little lord.” And with that Ramsay turned and started walking toward Rickon.

“N-no! He’s innocent from everything that has happened! Take me instead!” Jon tried desperately, panicking at the thought of Rickon being hurt in such a manner by such a man.

“Now where would the fun in that be bastard? You already broke your vow before with your wildling lover.” Ramsay, stopping in front of Rickon who was trying to catch his breath, glaring up at Ramsay before Ramsay grabbed the boy by the hair forcing him to stand, “Now Rickon. You’re going to do exactly as I say.”

“No!” The boy spat, glaring daggers at Ramsay, “I won’t do anything you say!”

“Yes, yes you will!” And Ramsay slapped Rickon without warning, “Or else you’ll watch as I let my dogs on your bastard brother.” He hissed, yanking Rickon’s hair for good measure.

Rickon looked at Jon with a look of anger and fear in his eyes before turning his attention back to Ramsay, “What do you want…”

“What I want, little lord, is for you to do exactly as I say without question. If you comply with all my demands maybe I’ll be kinder to the traitor.” Ramsay said, motioning for a few of his men to come over, “You’ll let them do as I say or I’ll flay you in front of the entire fucking North.” He hissed. Rickon nervously turned and glared at the man but was promptly blindfolded, much to his discontent. 

“Why am I blindfolded?” Rickon questioned, turning his head whenever he’d hear the slightest noise. He didn’t like not seeing, he was vulnerable without his eyes.

“You’ll understand in a second.” Ramsay said before sitting down in a chair, Jon couldn’t keep quiet anymore.  
“Ramsay don’t do it. Please.” Jon said, trying desperate to get of his restraints.

“I didn’t think it would be this easy to break you!” He laughed, “But this is just the start. Come Rickon!” He said, calling to the child as one of his soldiers shoved him over to Ramsay and Ramsay promptly dismissed them before standing and walking in a circle around Rickon, looking him up and down for Jon to see. Rickon twitched nervously, fists clenched at his side. As Ramsay walked up directly behind the boy Rickon turned around to snarl at him, not wanting him to be too close.

“You act like a vicious little creature.” He tutted, “And if you want to act like an animal then FINE, act like an animal but that does not go without punishment!” He snapped, grabbing the boy by the hair and dragging him over to the table, grabbing one of his wrists and promptly tying it down to the table and then did the same with the other, no matter how he struggled. 

“What’re you doing!?” Rickon snapped, yanking at the restraints desperately.

“I’m going to show you what is done with the spoils of war little man, and whether you like it or not I kept you alive, that makes you part of it!” he snapped, playing with the hem of the nightshirt and glaring down at Rickon, “I’m going to do to you what I’ve done to your big sister and if you’re going to be upset at anyone about it, be upset with her for abandoning you.”

Rickon struggled even still, “What the hell did you do to Sansa?!” He snapped, angry now that something had been done to his sister.

It crushed Jon inside hear how innocent and naïve his half-brother really was. Rickon really had…Had no idea that Sansa had been raped, no idea in his little head. Ramsay saw the look on Jon’s face and smirked before taking out a dagger and holding it to Rickon’s neck, “Now, little lord, you must keep very still for this part or I fear you’re going to be in for great amount of pain. More than you’ve ever experienced before!” He mocked as Rickon stilled, his torso on the table as Ramsay pulled the dagger away, noticed the boys feed fidget where they were.

“You know the Umbers had said you seemed to be as antsy as a wolf itself, perhaps why you got along so well with the Wildlings. You’re a little wildling boy yourself but…I’m going to correct this nasty habit you’ve picked up.” Ramsay said in a very serious sounding tone, but staring down at Rickon with a predator’s gaze before pushing up the nightshirt ever so slowly. Rickon was just doing his best to stay strong but couldn’t help but shudder, he didn’t quite know what was going to happen but he knew whatever it was it wouldn’t be pleasant. 

Jon watched in horror, he felt blood fill his ears. He could…He could hear in his soul, he could hear Catelyn screaming. Her ghost was there, watching, watching in horror as this man who’d hurt her daughter, was now about to do the same to youngest child. Her baby boy…

Jon didn’t quite pay attention for all of two seconds but he did see Rickon tense, and then he heard him let out a loud yelp and the flailing started again. Ramsay gave a soft, contented sigh as he pressed into Rickon, giving a laugh at the boy’s struggling and his yelps, “Now now, if you continue to squirm and thrash about in such a manner it’s going to hurt when I start to move! We’ve barely begun Lord Stark.” He taunted, glancing at Jon feeling a great deal of satisfaction from the horrified and the almost broken look on Jon’s face, in Jon’s eyes, “I’m even being so kind as to let you adjust! There are worse men than me you know.” And once more Ramsay turned to Jon, “Bastard, tell your little brother that if he struggles and panics he’s only going to make things worse for himself.”

Jon felt like retching in that moment, Ramsay was torturing the both of them at the same time, “H-he’s right Rickon, please…Please don’t struggle anymore…” He said in a strained voice, feeling tears sting his eyes. He could hear their ghosts in his ears, his father, Catelyn, Robb, all screaming in agony for Rickon, the baby of the family, always the baby and Jon found himself mentally saying that he was sorry, sorry he had lost, sorry he couldn’t protect Sansa, sorry he couldn’t protect Rickon even now when he was so close to the boy.

“It hurts!” Rickon gave a loud whine, his legs shaking as he held himself up, he had tried so very hard to be strong, but he didn’t know what else to do, he was in pain! And so tears dripped down from his blindfold as he tried to listen to what he was told, he tried to stay still, but found he was shaking and his legs were beginning to give.

“Of course it’s going to hurt, you know your sister always yelped but she never spoke during the act.” Ramsay mused, watching as Rickon shook and smirking when he felt the boy’s knees give, grabbing him by the hips and holding him up, “If you slip like that then I’m going to come out and then we’ll have to go back to the start with this. I just can’t help myself anymore really. Now you’re not going to fight or squirm anymore or I’ll make sure that this is as unpleasant as it gets.” He said, beginning to move as Rickon yelped and whimpered and whined.

Jon would kill Ramsay. He would KILL Ramsay for this! Just looking at the sick bastard he was enjoying this! He was enjoying ravaging his baby brother like this. Jon went back and forth from anger to agony. When Rickon was quieter he was angry, when Rickon would yelp or whine he would feel agony. He wanted to help Rickon so badly but…tied down there was nothing he could do. Just hear the sounds of flesh hitting flesh…It made him want to wretch.

It seemed like an eternity for Rickon before it was over, when in reality it was about 10 minutes before Ramsay leaned over Rickon a little more, groaning softly before he leaned over the boy and cut the restraints on his hand and backed up, watching with glee as Rickon immediately collapsed onto the floor, shaking like a kicked dog.

“Rickon…” Jon said softly, strained. Rickon wouldn’t turn to him, his shaky hands removing the blindfold, but still, unable to look at Jon.

“Now now Lord Stark, cheer up, I went easy on you and you’ll adjust better with time. For now, go bathe.” He said, dismissively calling in the guards to hoist the boy up and drag him off. Now, Ramsay turned his attentions to Jon, slowly walking over and smirking, “Reek cried, you didn’t but you’ve come very close. I’m disappointed!” He whined, “I thought I was going to have FUN trying to break you! In fact I fear you may break before my little wolf breaks. For now though, I think I’ll throw you in the dungeons. Don’t worry though, you’ll see much more of the little wolf man I promise you, you’ll get to watch over and over as I take him and as I break him.”

“I’m going to kill you Lord Bolton.”

“Oh are you now? I seem to recall my lovely wife saying the same thing yesterday, but look, it didn’t happen. The Gods favor me, Jon Snow. Don’t worry, soon I’ll break you as well. Even the strongest break.” He said, a smug look on his face as he turned, and walked, feeling as satisfied as ever, leaving Jon to glare holes in his back.


	2. Taunting

It felt like an eternity in that dungeon for Jon. He wasn't quite sure how long it had been. The cell was dark, lit only by a measly torch outside the bars. He slept whenever he could let sleep find him, which was not often now. No, now he was woken by the nightmares he would have, of Rickon sometimes...Other times they were of Caitlyn, or Robb, or more obscure ones where he felt like he was witnessing something he had not witnessed. Sansa, mostly, were what these dreams were about...How alone his half-sister must have felt as that...that dog Ramsay stole her innocence from her with no mercy. All Jon had was silence, sleep, and the occasional meal.

Until out of the blue, a visitor to his silent cell.

"Do you know what day it is bastard?"

Jon felt his blood pressure spike at that, lifting his head only slightly, but enough to know whom was asking him a question. He stayed silent.

 

Bad idea. Ramsay delivered a quick and harsh kick to his ribs, "I asked you a question bastard!" He snarled in anger. Jon knew it best that he respond, "I don't know it’s dark here and I am fed so sparingly I cannot tell what day it is.” Jon sat slightly open mouthed, a question burned at his lips. A question he was almost terrified to ask Ramsay, for he feared the answer meant that all hope was lost. 

Ramsay saw it too, the question left unspoken on Jon’s dry, cracked lips. So he smirked, strolling slowly around Jon, “Your little wild animal of a brother is fine, if that’s what burns you so badly to ask. He’s just fine, for now. However I have grown...quite bored...with the absence of my beautiful wife I seem to be...lacking. I do need to find her soon, I miss her dearly and it is high time I make sure she does begin to provide me with heirs.” He saw how Jon bristled at the thought, and kept his head down. However he didn’t need to see Jon’s face to know the disgusting scowl it held.

“Do you know where she could have gone bastard?” He asked, pulling a chair and sitting down in front of Jon, “I wouldn’t want anyone else to hurt her after all, and Gods forbid, try and marry her off while she is still my lady. Don’t you have some idea?”

Jon was silent, he wouldn’t betray Sansa’s trust. She had run and fled, there was still hope! Hope that she could take back Winterfell, somehow…some way. He had to be strong, no matter how Ramsay tortured him he knew he had to stay strong, if he couldn’t then all was lost. “No matter. If you don’t know then I do. The Eyrie! She’s run back to Littlefinger hasn’t she?” He laughed for a moment and then scoffed, it sent a shiver up Jon’s spine, “As if he can protect her. Oh no, he doesn’t have enough men to do that, she should be returning soon. Oh I can’t wait to tell her what I’ve done to the Little Lord, and how you watched, powerless to save him.” And with that Ramsay turned to walk out, stopping, however, in front of the door.

“Perhaps you’ll watch too, as I make sure your sister becomes quick with my child.”

Jon couldn’t take it anymore, he snapped, lunging for Ramsay, the chain on his leg however, stopping him just short of Ramsay as he hissed and snarled out angry awful words at Ramsay, like an angry chained animal. So Ramsay could do nothing more than give a sideways smirk and walk out the door, locking it behind him, leaving Jon once more, in that cell with nothing more than a damp stillness as his company.


	3. Nowhere Left To Turn

When Sansa arrived at the Eyrie she was distraught and really Brienne could understand, her brothers had been taken and who knows the horrors they were facing at the hands of her cruel husband. Brienne had to calm her for most of the trip, fearing her crying shrieks would alert any men that Ramsay may have sent after her. At least though, Brienne knew that Sansa would be safe...even if it was with Baelish, whom she despised.

 

The both of them had expected to be welcome with open arms. To be sheltered and protected from anyone Ramsay might send after her.

 

However when they reached the Eyrie there was a posted outside, almost as if he had been waiting for them and with a grave look on face he spoke softly to the two ladies, as if he truly didn’t believe himself either, “I’m sorry...Lord Baelish has told me to turn you away.”

 

Brienne was thrown off, yes, but Sansa took one deep gasp and down she went, tumbling off her horse in a mess of flailing limbs. She had fainted, just the mere idea of being turned away she knew meant that she had nowhere to go. If Petyr would not take her in, then nobody was going to and she had only one option left. One, terrifying horrid option.

 

Out of pity the man saw Brienne and the unconscious Sansa into the Vale, to rest, perhaps get them some food. Brienne nearly lunged at Petyr when they stepped in, she gave him a glare and a bone rattling growl, “How DARE you turn Sansa away, after all the LIES of caring about her wellbeing?”  


 

However, she had not expected to see Petyr, looking slightly pale, his head turned away from Sansa, “There are too many houses that back Ramsay, if I harbor you and Lady Sansa then I risk everything I have here and I cannot take such a risk. I’ve played my hand, I’ve tried to help and I’ve failed. You cannot stay here.”

 

“Then where. Hmm? Where do you expect us to go Lord Baelish?” Brienne snapped as Sansa slowly started to come to.

 

Petyr took a slightly pained glance at Sansa, “Go back to Winterfell, Lady Bolton. Your husband will forgive you if you return to him.”

 

“No... “ Sansa let out a slightly garbled, pained groan, “He’ll kill me…” And with that she began to sob.

 

“He won’t Lady Bolton! He needs you! As you said before, he needs the face of Ned Stark’s daughter or he risks losing most of the northern houses backing him right at this moment and his army is too battered from battle to take care of an invasion. Return to him, Sansa, for I care very deeply for you. Tell him you were frightened and confused and ran and then when you realized what had happened you needed to return to him, to be saved by him.” Petyr walked over and, despite the risk of Brienne attacking him, he grabbed Sansa by the shoulders, “Use these tears you have for me to your advantage. Gods, Sansa, return to him sobbing and frightened but you cannot stay here, I cannot protect you anymore!”

 

Sansa looked as if she was going to fire something back, but then let out a soft whimper, shivers racking her body and she shook her head. So Petyr let her go and turned away, “Guards, escort the Lady Brienne and the Lady Sansa out please. Send them off with enough food to get them back to Winterfell.” And with that Petyr walked away, barely able to stand Sansa’s screeching for him and Brienne’s disgusting, unlady-like words.

 

 

X

 

 

Brienne almost slapped Sansa, almost. It was the closest she’d ever been to inflicting harm upon the girl, before she drew back, knowing that the girl didn’t mean what she had said.

“You lie Lady Sansa. You would never do such a thing.” Brienne said as their horses sauntered along.

“No...NO! I mean it...I want sweetsleep or essence of nightshade, something that will give me control over my own death!” She snapped softly at Brienne, having long wasted her tears as they departed the Eyrie. Now on the path back to Winterfell, Sansa had quieted her tears and begun to worry intensely.

“I don’t want to do this as much as you don’t want to but...with Jon now a prisoner we don’t have anywhere to go. If we go anywhere near King's Landing you would be killed. If we go north to the Wall then they will alert Ramsay and keep you there for him.” Brienne explained to her rather distraught lady.

“We could go East...to Essos.” 

“Lady Sansa we have no money to catch a ship to go east.”

Silence from the forlorn lady, “He’s going to let his men rape me….You know…”

“He wouldn’t do such a thing Lady Sansa, he said those things in that letter to frighten you.” Brienne didn’t want to believe that a man could do such a thing to his wife.

“You don’t know him...He will...He’s going to let his men rape me and then his dogs.” She let out a slight sob, before she stopped herself.

“I...I will offer my sword to him to guard you Sansa, I will keep you safe and I will let no man hurt you.” Brienne tried to assure Sansa, she wanted so desperate for Sansa to keep her composure.

 

“You cannot keep me safe from him you know…”

 

“I can try Sansa, I can try!” Brienne felt it herself now, the slight constriction in her chest. Panic, she felt it now, fear as to what would happen as they approached Winterfell.

“When...When we get close enough for his men to see...We will surrender without a fight...A-and I will go to my Lord husband...and I will beg for mercy for both of us…” Sansa sounded so dead inside, “And I will accept whatever punishment he has for me…”

Brienne tried to speak, but Sansa rode ahead of her, and Brienne simply stared at her lady, feeling worry for her in the pits of her stomach. It wouldn’t be too long now, before they reached Winterfell.

  
  


X

  
  


Jon was growing restless. He couldn’t stand being down there, the silence was starting to become maddening and he wasn’t going to last much longer in the silence. However it was out of the blue that there was a visit from Ramsay and he seemed giddier than usually.

Not good.

“Oh bastard!” He chimed in a terrifying, sing-song way, “Bastard I’ve decided to be merciful! Rickon will be joining you here, for some time!” He walked around Jon, “Well aren’t you going to thank me and ask why?” He was like a giddy child waiting to give an answer, only more malevolent than a child every would be.

Jon took a deep breath and rasped out, “Why?”

“Because I’ve been sent a raven from the Eyrie. My sweeting is returning to me!” He sounded so excited, and it chilled Jon to the bone. Only one thought entered his head at that moment.

_ Poor Sansa... _

 


End file.
